


The Vessel & The Prophet

by crickets



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-06
Updated: 2007-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crickets/pseuds/crickets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Crossroads. Kara faces Leoben once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vessel & The Prophet

**Author's Note:**

> [Original Post](http://crickets.livejournal.com/79617.html).

There's a moment of hesitation when he enters the cell. Just who and what is giving pause, isn't exactly clear. It's everything. And nothing. It's her breath, his steps, Lee's gaze, the blackness beyond the wall, the empty space between them, the broken trust she carries in her pocket, even fabled Earth, so far away, but so clear in her memories.

The sound of boots clunking metal floor echoes just as far as her mind goes, all the way back to that cold and dusty planet where he kept her... just kept her, _really_ \- made her question who she was, made her feel things she'll never admit to, pushed her beyond, made her helpless as no one or thing ever had, reached deep inside of her and pulled out the throbbing heart that Kara Thrace discarded long ago, and gave it back to her.

Her voice is low and dark. It comes from her gut. "You _can't_ put him in here with me," she growls. And even if she were a cylon, she's still her, and the memories of New Caprica weigh heavy on her soul.

_What soul?_

That's what they'd say. Because as far as they're concerned, she and Leoben are one and the same.

She looks at Lee, and he is just as broken as before, eyes so far away. She'll never get them back. She could call his name, beg, deny, swear, but she knows by now it's useless.

_And then they're alone._

"Kara," he says finally, and the sound of his voice, gravelly and kind, is so many things to her. It's hate, and fear, and reverence, and even want.

"Shut up," she pleads, but it's too late. He takes her in, and _gods_, it feels safe there. She knows better. She does. She remembers his warm blood on her hands, his breath on her lips, his voice in her head, the way he made her believe in something that was never hers to begin with.

Leoben once told her he was God, said it like he meant it, like he believed the truth of those words. And she had looked him in the eye and laughed at him.

_How absurd._

Today she is a believer. She; the vessel. Leoben; the prophet. _Chosen_. Equals.

Salty taste on her lips, and she pulls away, like he'll infect her, like he'll make all those accusations about her true.

"Why are you here?" she asks, tries to ignore how cold she feels without his warmth, pushes back against the wall. She doesn't mean this cell, or Galactica, or even the fleet, she means _here_, everywhere, when she closes her eyes and when she opens them.

"You shouldn't be alone, Kara," he says in that way of his, like he knows more than he's saying, means more than his words. "There is so much more to do."

There is _so much_ more to do.

_-fin_


End file.
